


Not Enough Pluck

by jj_minerva



Series: Pluck Series [1]
Category: The Professionals
Genre: Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-10
Updated: 2009-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_minerva/pseuds/jj_minerva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in the Pluck Series: During a rainy afternoon Bodie and Doyle discuss Raffles and Bunny Manders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Enough Pluck

“Here, Doyle, I thought you said this book was about cricket?”

 

Raymond Doyle looked up from the pages of his own novel and frowned at his partner.  They were stretched out at either end of the couch in Doyle’s flat. Outside, a torrential downpour had put an end to their planned activities and they were valiantly trying to pass the time until the rain eased enough to venture forth.  The telly had let them down and so Doyle had pulled out a book for Bodie and suggested they both read for a while. It had sounded simple to Doyle who was already half way through a paperback. For Bodie it was obviously a little more complex.

 

“I didn’t say it was about cricket, I said there was a cricket match in it. What’s the problem, Bodie? Don’t you like it?”

 

“Er, well, it’s just a little ….odd, that all.”

 

“Odd?” Doyle closed his book with a sigh. “What do you mean odd?’

 

“Well, these two blokes, I mean, don’t they strike you as being a bit…you know…queer?”

 

“Queer? Raffles and Bunny Manders?” Doyle gave a little laugh. “What makes you say that? Is it because they play cricket?”

 

“It’s got nothing to do with bloody cricket,” Bodie threw back. Doyle’s disparaging of the game was an old issue between them. “No, it’s everything about them. The way they talk about each other, ‘My dear Bunny’ and ‘I’ll do anything in this world for you Raffles’ Sounds bloody queer to me!”

 

“That’s just the way blokes talked back then. It doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“Oh yeah? Well what about all that cigarette smoking? That’s a metaphor, Doyle. That’s what that is”

 

Doyle blinked a couple of times, “A metaphor? Christ Bodie, that’s a big word for you. It’s a metaphor for what?”

 

“Cock sucking!” Bodie declared bravely.

 

Doyle spluttered. “ ‘Scuse me?”

 

“It is you know,” Bodie continued enthusiastically. He swung his feet to the floor and sat up straight. “They’re constantly lighting up and watching each other smoke. It’s positively pornographic!”

 

“You’re reading it all wrong, Bodie. They’re not gay.”

 

“I’m not so sure, mate. They spend an extraordinary amount of time together. Not only do they work together committing burglary but they hang out in each other flats or ‘rooms’ as they call them, from early morning to late at night. They eat together, go away together…drive all over London together in hansom cabs...”

 

Doyle grinned at his partner. “Makes them sound a bit like us, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Bodie stared for a moment, blinked and then said, “Like us? No way.”

 

Doyle laughed. “Don’t be too quick. You can’t deny the similarities are there.”

 

“Well if they are like us, then I’d be Raffles because he plays cricket,” Bodie declared triumphantly.

 

Doyle snorted.  “Who’s the one with the brains, mate? No, I’m Raffles and your Bunny. Bodie-Bunny, five letters. Nuff said.”

 

“Hang on a minute….” Bodie began “Bunny was the fag….I’m no…”

 

 Doyle interrupted with a laugh. “That doesn’t mean what YOU think it means, Bodie. It means that Bunny did stuff for Raffles when they were at school.”

 

“That’s disgusting, that is! Bloody public school education…turns a man queer, it does.”

 

“Not that…get your mind out of the gutter. Bunny ran errands for Raffles, kept his rooms clean, that sort of thing.”

 

Bodie considered this but did not look convinced. Doyle couldn’t resist one more little dig.  “Still sounds a lot like you, Bodie. You’re always tidying my place when you come over, putting stuff away.”

“Because you live like a …”

 

“All I have to do is ask you to carry something and you do. In fact you do most things I ask you to.”

 

“That’s because we’re mates, not queer,” Bodie defended.

 

“Still, the similarities are there, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Bodie must have realised he wasn’t going to win this round with Doyle because he changed the subject.

 

“I did have a laugh about ‘young George Crowley’!” Bodie put on his poshest accent when he said the name. “Couldn’t help but think of the Cow…get it Doyle, George Crowley – George Cowley?”

 

“Good point. Old George must have born back then, wouldn’t you say.” It was said in jest and taken as such.

 

“Oh yeah. And I can see him on the cricket pitch, brandishing a golf club.”

 

“Well, he is into those Gentlemen’s clubs.”

 

“Yeah, but this Crowley is queer too – ‘of the exquisite type’ as Bunny puts it. Reckon that must mean he’s gay!  Don’t reckon the Cow is though.”

 

Doyle just cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

 

“Here, Ray, you know something! Tell me Doyle, tell me what you know.”

 

“My lips are sealed. It’s a state secret.”

 

“Why you…” Bodie launched himself from his end of the couch onto his partner and they wrestled, good naturedly, until they fell with a thump onto the floor.

 

“Ouch,” moaned Bodie, rubbing his arse.

 

“Stop being such a baby,” Doyle laughed. “You’re not hurt. There’s too much padding there.”

 

“You’re heartless, you are,” Bodie replied rising to his feet.

 

“Want me to kiss it better?” Doyle asked, still reclining on the floor in his best sprawl.

 

Bodie took one look, blushed and looked away.  “The rain’s stopped. Why don’t we go down the local and see if we can pick up some birds,” he said, still not looking at his partner.

 

“There’s not likely to be many out in this weather,” Doyle offered, not moving from his place on the floor.

 

Bodie grinned. “Yeah, only the eager ones! We could bring them back here and make it a foursome.”

 

“Ok then,” Doyle reluctantly climbed to his feet. He’d much rather stay in with Bodie and continue their silly conversation about Raffles and Bunny, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Bodie. “Sounds great. Let’s go.”

 

They gathered up jackets and scarves and gloves and headed to the door.

 

“Hey Ray, you didn’t really mean it when you said we were like Raffles and Bunny, did you?” Bodie paused, hand on doorknob waiting. “I mean, we can’t be queer, we like birds!” There was a note of pleading in Bodie’s voice and Doyle took pity on him. Yes, they might work together and play together. The might eat together and had been known to sleep together in the true sense of the word. They teased and flirted and wrestled with each other. And they’d do anything for each other but that didn’t make them gay.

 

“Don’t worry about it, mate. We’re not gay if we do birds,” Doyle declared. Not even if it’s in a foursome and our eyes are on each other more than on them and it would be so easy to reach out and touch you.

 

 But he didn’t say that to Bodie.

 

The End.

 

Minerva Feb 2009


End file.
